Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Free Books in December!

Would you like some free books?

From December 25th until the 29th, The Cup Bearer, and other stories will be offered free on Amazon.

From December 26th until the 30th, A Night Alone will be offered free and from the 27th to the 31st, A Lesser Aphrodite will be free.

And assuming everything goes as planned--I finish the extra story and get it to the editors by Monday without difficulties--On the Hunt: Hyacinth & Callisto (newly updated with an additional story about Hyacinth and Zephyr) will be offered free on Amazon from the 28th through January 1st.

[p.s. I'll update that link to On the Hunt as soon as Amazon gets it posted... IT IS POSTED!]

So, did you get a new Kindle for Christmas? Well then, take advantage of these deals. They won't be around forever.

And looking forward, I will be publishing my newest eBook, To the Fairest, in January for $1.99 at Amazon.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Io Saturnalia!

My yearly time to sign off for the winter holiday season is upon us... so, until January, I say to you all:

Io, Saturnalia!



I hope to have quite a few surprises for everyone in the new year! Please stay tuned.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Mainstream Erotica... before Fifty Shades

Anne Rice on Vampires and Erotica


I have read her Sleeping Beauty trilogy of erotica and except for an overabundance of spanking that I just don't see the sexual appeal in I can't say I didn't find her works very titillating. In fact, when I am down and out, I always reach for this trilogy. Not only does it perk me right up, but it also gets my juices flowing... my literary juices, I mean. 

Penguin trade paperback cover

My favorite scenes? 
  • When the prince first wakes Beauty. 
  • When Beauty is being shown the "torture" room in the castle (still not sure all those positions are actually possible, but what the hey?). 
  • Beauty's exile from the castle and sex in the wagon (dear gods, so hot!).
  • Tristan in the stables servicing the other "studs."
  • Beauty in the tavern with her Captain (basically any of those scenes...)
  • Tristan and his master.
  • Tristan and Beauty on the Arab ships... first night at sea (I will never look at fruit the same!)

And, wouldn't you know I can't remember the third book as well. Been a while, actually, since I read that one. Will have to un-bury it from the back of the bookcase and dust it off.

Guess I have some reading to do this holiday season...

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Join My Email List!

I am going to attempt an experiment. If you click on "Email List" above (or here) hopefully you'll end up on a page where you can sign up to be part of an email-mailing list to receive information on upcoming releases, announcements, and other really, really special news about Erato's Musings. Since I've done this before, I am not going to promise perfection. There's a bit of a learning curve involved. If you would like to receive periodic notes from me in your email box and aren't afraid of a little trial and error, go ahead and fill out the form please. I would greatly appreciate it! A million thanks! Oh, and I promise to not to spam you all.


Friday, December 12, 2014

Barnes & Noble has Decided to Play with the Big Boys!

I haven't sold a single ebook via B&N. Not a one. Got a few hundred hits on my free singles - which I have since decided to remove from sale so that I can add an additional chapter about Hyacinth and Zephyr's time together- but nothing else. So, when I received an email from Selena Kitt about B&N's new policy regarding questionable content (particularly in the content of the description and on the covers), I decided just to go ahead and pull the plug.

I used to (note the tense here) use Smashwords to distribute my books to all the big ebook retailers, except Amazon, and have received from them NOTHING! Even though I have a whopping balance of $2.38. The same profit I have had all year. No actual payments though.

It really wasn't a hard decision, but tonight I signed into my Smashwords account and unpublished all my books with them. Every last one. Couldn't figure out how to close my account, however.

[If someone does, let me know!]

Even the one, cover pictured below, which they refused to actually send out for publication at any retailer except the Smashwords home-site because of her "painted" bare breasts. I'm sorry, but if the artwork can hang in an art gallery visited by school children on a field trip, why can't it be shown on a book cover? Seriously, this is ART! Old, well-respected art!


In a week or so, I am going to have to make a far more difficult decisoin. I will have the opportunity to enroll The Cup Bearer and A Night Alone in Kindle Select/Prime. I am not sure whether I should or not. Yes, A Lesser Aphrodite is doing well there, but I'm not sure it is enough for me. Perhaps, once I get everything straight, I hold some more free days and see what happens then make my decision.

Anyways, this is just a heads-up for any of my followers and lovely potential customers. So far, Amazon has been the best for me and I'm going to stick by them.

Let's hope, they don't pull any crap...

Ghostwriting - Pros and Cons of a Secret Writer

What is Ghostwriting? or Who is a Ghostwriter?

  1. ghostwriter is a writer who writes books, articles, stories, reports, or other texts that are officially credited to another person. Celebrities, executives, and political leaders often hire ghostwriters to draft or edit autobiographies, magazine articles, or other written material.

In order to help supplement my everyday income, I have a Fiverr page where I offer a few gigs. One of those gigs is to help other writers with their erotic love scenes. It seems, an author either has the skill or doesn't have it. Writing sex isn't as easy as it looks. For those who would like to make their living writing erotic or romance short stories, books, or anything in between but can't seem to figure out how to write the actual act, I am their savior.

I have written for at least two prolific, and I assume top-selling authors since they keep returning fo rmore stories and absolutely rave about my style and talent, of relatively popular erotic/romance ebooks (according to my limited Amazon searches). I have written for three separate sites which sell erotic stories. All of these, I have been happy to do. Here's why:

For only $4 I write a 500-1,000 word excerpt about the characters of their choice, doing the things of their choice, in the location of their choice, and as hot or raunchy as they chose. They make all the decisions and all I have to do is write. It is incredibly liberating! I don't have to think of what happens before or what might happen after. I don't have to create the characters and make them real. All I do is get them together. It allows me the freedom to explore different phrases, acts, experiences, behavior that might not have thought to use before. Very often, I get a rush of creative ideas for my own works right after I finish a gig.

The only thing which bothers me is the amount of time and effort I put into each excerpt. As a perfectionist, I always want to do my best but sometimes I go a little too overboard. I write too much. I get invested in the story and characters and then almost want to beg the author to let me write more, finish the book, whatever. And, for so little. $4 is really not enough. But, as an amateur, I still shy away from asking more. I am not a well-known author.

And the time I spend writing these excerpt's takes away from the time I have each week to dedicate to my own writing. I am afraid of the day I will end up ghostwriting more than actually writing my own stuff. To become a famous writer, through the work of others (although I did read one review of book I helped write in which the reviewer said the best part of the book for her was the sex scenes. My scenes!), yet still unknown.

When I thought to stop ghostwriting for a while, opting to take a month off for personal reasons, I was honestly amazed by the number of previous clients who were worried I wasn't coming back. I almost didn't want to come back. I was tired of the few clients who requested, consistently, so much more than I was actually able to give or who started off wanting simple excerpts and then arguing with me when I wasn't able to get the full story they desired written in a 1,000 words. It is amazing how a few can ruin a good thing. But, alas, after my return, those clients have gone elsewhere. What remains, it seems, are those clients who sincerely enjoy and like my work and applaud my skill.

Is ghostwriting worth it? How much would you pay to have someone else write "your" story?

Friday, December 5, 2014

The World Needs Books!

Just YES!

Madison, here, may be the most awesome girl in the world! Please, share. This needs to be seen and heard by everybody.



Friday, November 28, 2014

Tragic Endings - NaNoWriMo's almost over!


My final NaNoWriMo update: I cheated! Just a little. I got stuck with what to do about Hippodamia. At 38,000 words, I have finished the story about Hylonome. I like it. It is a pretty story. Hippodamia on the other hand is just plain irritating me. So, I did something I swore I wasn't going to do. I started writing another story in the middle of the one I was supposed to be writing. Oh, well. At least I'm writing! And, whose to say Zephyr won't make an appearance in the finished novel... I always thought of him as a horse anyways (there is long story in there, maybe I'll tell you all later).

Friday, November 21, 2014

NaNoWriMo Update and Proof of Procrastination

I am woefully behind... by about 10,000 words. Guess what I am going to be spending my weekend doing. Thus far, I am finding it very easy to write Hylonome's side of the story and not quite so easy to write Hippodamia's side. I just haven't been able to get in her head as well as I did Hylonome's. Oh, well, here's to "faking it until I make it." Wish me luck!

On a side (semi-related note), I have begun reading a book that I am totally in love with! Shan Sa's Alexander and Alestria. It is beautifully written (you can tell Shan Sa has also done some poetry. The words she chose are perfect in every way) and incredibly evocative of the time and romance.


I would suggest to you all to find the nearest copy and pick it up. You won't be sorry.

Finally, here are some pictures of centaur couples to ogle and drool over. I so wish I had the artistic talent - this are absolutely gorgeous drawings.


There does appear to be other versions of this artwork. See here.

Drawing by Victoria Verebelyi

And, then there is this one... so cruel, so amazing.
Painting by Roberto Ferri

Teaching Literary Genius

National Book Awards: Peter Carey and Colum McCann Nuture Young Writers

Short article and video from BBC News Magazine. Definitely worth the five minutes it takes to watch and read.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Goodreads Research - A Nice Comprehensive Look at Sex and Reading

This is so not what you were thinking! But, still cool. :)


For the full article, click here.

Any of your own opinions you would like to share? Comment away.

Friday, November 14, 2014

NaNoWriMo Update


Update on my first NaNoWriMo attempt:

I am behind on my writing, but have already written more than I ever have before on one project. So yeah! I hope to catch up quite a bit tomorrow and Sunday.

When I began, I thought I was going to write Hylonome's and Hippodamia's different stories in first person. It turns out, that didn't work. (I am keeping the lines so far, but we'll see what happens at the end.) Now, I'm writing in third person. It is going much better!

I am still on Hylonome's part of the story. It has been one day and she's just met Cyllarus. The story has a theme emerging, although not the one I had intended. I am curious to see how it plays out in the end.

Anyway, that's all I got so far.

p.s. Sorry this is not a longer or more interesting blog post. All my creativity is going elsewhere. I ask forgiveness.

p.p.s. The image above makes me laugh! :)

Friday, November 7, 2014

Daughters of Ixion: Prologue

Remember, this is still a very, very rough draft... draft zero, if you don't mind. But, I figured I would share my adventures and successes during NaNoWriMo with you all throughout the month. Here is the prologue, as it stands right now. Enjoy!

Daughters of Ixion 

Prologue 

He held his breath as he unrolled the tied parchment. Spittle collected in the back of his throat, his throat working hard to overcome the lump of fear lodged beneath his voice box. In his heart, he knew this had to be the summons he expected, his exile from Thessaly, from Hellas. Perhaps even his death sentence. The silken strand which sealed the scroll floated to the floor like an eagle's feather on the wind as the few inked lines were revealed.

Ixion, son of Ares, king of the Lapiths, husband of Dia, and slaughterer of Deioneus, Zeus, king of the gods and father of mankind, welcomes you to dine at the table of the gods on Mount Olympus. His pity falls upon you and feels your heart's shame. Thus, this honor is extended to you.

Raising his eyes to the stranger standing before him, dressed in the cloak and hat of a traveler, Ixion watched as the disguise shimmied and melted away. Hermes, messenger of the Almighty Zeus, now filled the threshold. With a tilt of his head, the swift-footed god smiled and the parchment in Ixion's hand disappeared.

"Your reply," he said. His voice echoed in the vast hall, mischief lurking in its harmonious depths.

"I accept."

Hermes extended his youthful, slender-fingered hand and stepped aside, beckoning Ixion forth. Ixion's steps were determined, haughty, unswayed by his recent troubles and untroubled by his mind's dark thoughts. Chin thrust forward, head held high, the king of the Lapiths boarded the chariot waiting in the courtyard. Hermes joined him and flicked the reins at the harnessed eagle. Lurching high, the chariot proceeded to quickly climb into the sky, where Olympus loomed in the distance.

Tonight, he was to dine with the gods. For the first time since his murderous act, Ixion felt hope rise in his chest and he grinned. Giddy with the relief that flooded his veins, he fought to urge to laugh. It would not do to greet Zeus with such joy. He was still a king, after all.

He was Zeus's equal.

Pulling the chariot up short, the eagles soared in a gentle loop around the tallest tower of the Olympic palace to rest in a clearing among the gods’ garden. Hermes alighted and offered a bow and hand to Ixion. Ixion accepted the help in stepping from the chariot. Spinning in a lazy circle, he took in the grandeur that surrounded him.

Built like the fortress-palaces which dotted the Hellenic landscape, but on a far larger scale, the home of the King of Gods covered the entire peak of Mount Olympus. The wall was built of marble blocks at least as tall as him. The paved stones which lined the road seemed made of precious stones. They glinted and shimmered in the setting sun. From his perspective, he could see down to the lesser deities’ residences, each similar in design, yet still unique. The white clay-slabbed buildings each surrounded their own private gardens, bits of which Ixion could only make out.

Zeus’s home, however, was by far the grandest structure. Columns marked its entrance. Marble eagles sat perched upon the lintels. Ixion admired the eagles. Their regalness, their speed, their focus and attention. For not the first time, he wished the horses which guarded his own threshhold appeared more intimidating. Each time he passed beneath their striking hooves, he had to hold back his derision. They seemed so weak compared to the lions of Mycenae and the bulls of Knossos.

Keeping his eyes on the gaze of the eagles, Ixion strided within the shorter-walled compound of the main palace. Five stories of expansive, stone made rooms with large, latticed windows greeted him. One atop another, the palace tiers mimicked the gradual rise of Olympus itself. Ripping his eyes from the columnated heights, Ixion lowered his gaze to the large oak doors standing open before him. Hermes stood patiently beside the marble lintel waiting for Ixion.

Sounds of merriment issued forth beckoning Ixion closer. The clatter of dishes laid out upon the table, the jovial discusion among a close-knit family, and the songs and music from talented entertainers brought a smile to his face. It had been far too many years since those same sounds had filled his own palace halls.

His neighboring kings had shunned him, his wife and children stayed cloistered in their quarters, afraid of his anger and grief. Suitors for his eldest daughter had ceased to come beseech him for her lovely hand. Even his own people abandoned him, leaving their fruitful lands bare of cultivation. He had nothing left in the world to celebrate. And though he had never noticed the absence of such joy until now, listening in on the feasting taking place made him earn even more for tonight.

“Ah, Ixion, greatest of the Thessalonian kings, welcome!”

At Zeus’s booming greeting, all the other noises in the grand hall died down and every face turned toward him. Hermes, he noticed, had already disappeared into the throng of deities, taking a seat at the right hand of his lord.

Ixion bowed before the assembly. “My lord and king.”

“Come, sit,” Zeus continued, pleased by Ixion’s show of respect, motioning to an empty chair beside Ixion’s immortal father, Ares, and across from his proud-bearing wife, Hera. “Enjoy the food and company. We welcome you to dine among us and share in our pleasures. Let your heart be stilled tonight and forget the troubles which color your soul.”

“Your graciousness is well-received lord,” Ixion answered, taking the proffered chair and breathing in the heavenly scents wafting from the varied and exotic foods that lined the table’s center.

Turning to Ares, he added, “Father.” Ares stared for a moment, taking in the strength and breadth of his mortal son. Ixion held his breath under the scrutiny and sighed only when Ares nodded his assent. No smile creased the hard line of his scarred cheeks, but the soft glow emanating and the drop which welled unbidden in the corner of his eye spoke volumes. It was enough for them.

After choosing among the delicacies a plateful of divine creations, Ixion raised his eyes to see Hera studying him. Her cheeks reddened at the instant their eyes met and for the first time in many years Ixion began to feel a stirring between his legs. She flicked a glace toward her husband, engaged in a friendly argument with Ares. Catching her husband otherwise occupied, Hera once again settled her stunning mahogany pupils on the mortal man who so obviously intrigued her.

“My queen,” Ixion began, noting her interest and surreptious study of his features.

“Tell me, are the stories true? Did you kill your wife’s father?”

Ixion fought the rise of bile and swallowed the lump of honeyed bread he’d been chewing. Placing a hand to his mouth, he quelled the coughs which threatened and cleared his throat, thinking of how best to answer. From the summons Zeus had sent and Hermes had delivered, it was clear the gods knew of his breach of xenia. Perhaps she was testing his sincerity for forgiveness—recently, he had frequented the many gods’ temples across Thessaly in search of a way to make amends—or whether the madness which had seized him after his murderous act had truly passed.

“Yes, my queen. I committed the sin of kin-slaying. The fame of that deed has shadowed my every waking moment and haunted my every nightmare. I have been hounded from my slumber by the furies.”

“What do they ask of you?”

“Queen, I will not put you from this wonderful food with their words. Such are not pleasing for a woman to hear. But at their insistence, I have sought to make amends.”

“I see.” She smiled then and he read pity in her features.

The stirring between his legs grew more pronounced and he shifted under her watchfulness, trying to ease the ache in his groin. Beside him, his father tossed a frown in his direction, no doubt uncomfortable with the immature restlessness he perceived. At the move, Hera’s smile widened and she raised a strong and feminine hand to her mouth to disguise her glee.

Her own motion caught the attention of both Athena, sitting at Ixion’s other side, and Zeus. Staring at the queen of the gods, both then locked stormy grey eyes on each other and Ixion had the sudden feeling of a full conversation taking place over his head, silently, between the father and daughter. Hera, too, must have noticed for immediately her eyes grew darker, more somber and her face morphed into one of jaded, haughty pride. Ixion’s own joy faded along with the queen’s.

The dinner continued on, Ixion conversing with both his father on the matters of mortal kingdoms and alliances and with Athena on the matters of the strongest kingly traits and scholarly pursuits. Across from him, Hera spent the rest of the banquet in silence, engaging no one else.

Following the meal and the entertainment, Ixion was invited by his father and Zeus to spend the night on Olympus and return in the morning with Hermes—it being suggested that Hermes was an unfit messenger after a certain number of Dionysian goblets. The suggestion was accepted eagerly and one of the lesser nymphs was directed to ready a room for his stay.

One by one the gods and goddesses excused themselves from the feast and disappeared back to their own residences, beds, and consorts for the evening. Athena left early, followed soon after by Dionysis with a saucy wink tossed in Hermes’ direction and a mouthed promise. With the way the god of wine had been watching Athena’s every move all night, Ixion had a pretty good idea of what he intended tonight. Ixion wished him luck. His own situation, though flagged at Hera’s drop in interest, still remained alert for the subtlest alteration in her change.

When it came, he was delirious with joy. As soon as Athena left the table, Hera’s face went through a series of minor convulsions. The corner of her lips twitched. Her bottom lip plumped, and her top lip relaxed, letting the red blood blossom beneath the thin skin. Her cheekbones arched and her eyebrows calmed. Her eyes lit with a slow-burning glimmer and she once again made contact with the mortal sitting across from her.

“My step-daughter, Athena. A man in woman’s clothing, yes?”

Ixion nodded. “Indeed.”

“Prude,” she added. “Casts aside my ambitions, my desires, and my power. Will not accept a husband and will not consider bearing her own child. What a waste!”

He laughed.

At the noise, Zeus raised his attention from the bosom of a nymph refilling his own goblet and looked down the half-empty table. Both Hera and Ixion immediately lowered their eyes and filled their fingers with food they had no real intention of eating. Everyone was beyond gorged. Once he returned to the nymph, his moment of worry passing, Hera sneaked a look back toward Ixion. 

“Ignore my husband. Serves him right to find me engaged with another man. Even a mortal.” Perfect, white teeth showed between her wide smile. “You are an interest to me, Ixion.”

“How so?” 

“I decreed your marriage to Dia. Convinced her father, myself, of your superiority. It was at my direction which your bride-price was seized upon and accepted. Why did you not follow through in your promise?”

His head dropped at her words, though another part rose at the sound of her voice and the husky tone her speech had taken on. He preferred women who spoke their minds and the realization that Hera was just such a woman spurred him to answer her as honestly as he was able.

“I saw in his eyes how much my offer pleased him. Along with that pleasure, though, lurked greed. It darkened his gaze and filled me with fear. He would have asked for more had I given him the promised price. I feared for my kingdom and its wealth.”

She said nothing for a long time, her eyes closing as if in thought.

“You are a wise man, Ixion. Athena was right to worry about my heart.”

At that, Hera rose abruptly, spun briskly on her heels and marched off to her quarters, head held high. Ixion felt himself rise in response and his feet take a few steps after her before realizing he moved at all.

Staring in silence after her, Ixion jumped at the heavy hand on his shoulder. Taking a few quick breaths, he looked over his shoulder at the broad chest of Ares. Feeling the heat of embarassment and shame crawl up his neck, he tried to control his wildly beating heart.

“Don’t mind her, Ixion, she has always been a cold woman. Her manners need some polishing, for sure.” Grinning, he chucked his mortal son under the chin and turned to lead him to his prepared quarters for the night.

As Ixion was led from the banquet hall, he caught the eye of Zeus and frowned. The king did not look pleased. He appeared deep in thought, a storm brewing in the creases of his forehead and the flashes of light sparking in his pupils. With a shake of his salt and pepper head, he watched the retreating figure of his wife stalk down the long corridor to their shared rooms. Stumbling over a split slab of marble, Ixion redirected his attention to where Ares was taking him. Any argument between the king and queen of gods was really none of his business.

Why couldn’t he just let it go?

He lay upon the feather-stuffed cushions of the wooden frame bed staring up at the ceiling, an artistic frescoe decorated in a perfect representation of the Hellenic starry night filling his gaze. Sleep would not come. Thoughts of Hera swirled in his mind, keeping him awake, very much like the nights spent with the Furies turning his every thought toward the moment of Deioneus’s death. Those stark white eyes glared blindingly at him in accusation, his palms covered in the sticky blood of his father-in-law. The horrors! But thoughts of Hera, as mind-consuming as Deioneus, were of a far more delicious style. The proof of the switch in themes was evident in the tenting of the thin linen sheet that covered his naked form.

“Ixion, son of Ares?” The tenative voice coming from the opposite side of the curtained entrance startled him.

“Yes.” Slipping from beneath the sheet, he quickly donned his under tunic and walked to the curtain, sliding it open to reveal a shivering and naked nymph. In her hands, she gripped a piece of torn parchment.

“For you,” she said, thrusting the papyrus into his hand, then spinning back around and disappearing down the dark corridor as fast as her bare feet could take her.

He retreated to the table and lamp settled against the wall on the other side of the sparse room. Twisting the wick to relight the oil lamp, he brought the note close and squinted to read the thin handwriting.

Come to me, Ixion. I need a wise man.

Rereading the note again and again, he couldn’t believe she would have put such words to paper. What if Zeus was to find out? What if Zeus already knew? The nymph? He studied the note for any hints of subterfuge. All the while, his erect staff roared its own opinions and his heart beat rapidly in anticipation. A chime sounded in the distance, another change of the guards. A quick look out the window confirmed it. The moon hung at its peak in the blackness of Uranus.

Ixion made his decision. Tossing on his royal chiton, the purple as deep and fresh as Zeus’s own robes, he stepped into his sandals and made his way back down the corridor to the banquet hall, across the now cleared and scrubbed space, and down the same hallway Hera had taken. Without directions to her room in the note, he assumed her room would be obvious. As the columned walkway stretched on and arced into a gentle curve, he discovered she was correct in her assumption. The large, etched peacock spread across her pine wood doors drew him closer like a moth to the flames. He knocked upon the slightly ajar door, noting the easy swing as he did so.

“Enter.”

Her voice. He paused. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to settle down. It was a hard battle.

“My queen,” he started, pushing the door open and striding within her vast, gemstone-hued room. “Hera.” He whispered her name.

She reclined on a massive mattress, nude, glorious in her maturity and glowing with power. His breath escaped him. He walked to the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving her body. As he moved closer, he studied every inch of her, memorizing this moment in his mind. So unlike his Dia, this woman, goddess, queen, radiated with the force and strength of born-royalty. A faint aura surrounded her, pulsing with pure authority. All of her drew him in, filled him and made him crave her all the more.

“Join with me.”

Those words were all he neeeded to hear. Stripping his chiton away, he let it fall softly to the tile floor and joined Hera on the mattress. She rolled toward him as the mattress sunk beneath his weight. He caught her by the shoulders, holding her in place as he moved to straddle her ample thighs. Her lips were soft and wet, her tongue sneaking out to run a caress across the plump red flesh. Lowering his head, he licked across the same path, pressing forward to deepen the kiss. Her husky moan was all he needed to proceed.

His palms stroked down each arm, reveling in the ethereal softness of her skin. She seemed to grow younger under his ministrations. Leaving her mouth, he trailed kisses across the hard line of her chin and jaw, to the scented flesh below her ear. Amber filled his senses, setting his soul on fire and his cock to rage. Suckling on the skin there, he lapped at her with his tongue and marked her as his own. She writhed under the attention, the sensation, and he chuckled softly into her ear.

“Enough play, Ixion.”

“I’m at your command, my queen.”

“Then fill me.”

Hera spread her legs, stretching Ixion’s thighs wide and making him sink into her welcome cradle. Sitting up, he scooted further down her body and lifted each knee to rest between her long legs. Lying atop her, he molded his form to hers and flexed his hips to arch his staff into her warm, wet heat. With forceful thrusts, he drove himself again and again into Hera. His lips found their way to her nipples and plied her passions with a skill born of expertise.

Nearing his climax, he let the nipple fall from his mouth and sat back, resting his bottom on his legs, and pulled Hera up and closer to him by her hips. With her knees draped over his elbows, he watched as he slid his cock in and out of her in long, strong, strokes. Her woman’s flesh blossomed dark pink, then bright red. She was as close as him. He stilled, waited for her half-lidded eyes to open fully and focus on him, then used his leverage on her hips and his own strength of limbs to fill her one last time as deep as physically possible. 

He erupted, spurting his seed inside her, passing out with the pleasure as her scream echoed in his ears.

Strong, angry hands grabbed at him, pulling him upright. A voice, seemingly from far away, bellowed his name over and over. Somewhere, a woman sobbed and a slap of flesh against flesh resounded.

Ixion came to, desire still coursing in his veins and throbbing at the center of his passion. The flashing bulk of Zeus towered above him. His father’s hand was clamped around his neck, threatening violence, yet not delivered. Both gods glared at him. He forced his eyes to look away. A young girl, nearly translucent, reclined on the mattress where he’d last seen Hera come apart before his gaze. Her shape shimmered in a rising sun and morphed into a young Hera, then back again to a young girl. Shaking his head, confused, so very confused, he saw a swish of movement behind the gods. For a brief instant, the hard, etched face of Hera appeared in his vision. Her sorrow was evident, as was pain and a bit of fear.

What had happened?

* * * * 

Nephele modulated her voice as Zeus demanded to sound like his haughty wife. Similarly, she changed her ever nebulous appearance to look more like Hera. Allowing Ixion, the mortal, to bed her wasn’t a difficult task, not what she had thought it would be like. Though, nothing like letting Zeus have his way. Feeling the mortal’s seed coat her inner walls had been an exciting sensation. Zeus never permitted her to grow round with his seed. Already, she felt the mortal king’s seed begin to grow inside her womb. Her cloud-shape’s forced appearance wobbled with the change in her thoughts and focus.

No matter, Ixion had already passed out.

When Zeus returned to the room, after a pleasant night spent with the queen, Nephele, once again at Zeus’s request, did nothing to hide her body or that of the naked mortal. She stretched upon silken sheets and made very clear the events which took place during the night. Hera responded with her usual, barely supressed, anger and harshness. Grabbing Nephele from the bed, she struck her twice across the cheeks and pushed her heavily back to the mattress, screeching at the world incomprehensible curses.

Ares came running at the screams. Together, he and Zeus yanked Ixion from the mattress and shook him awake.

What followed next took even Nephele’s breath away. And she was one of the gods. She knew what they were like. Their trickery, their deceit, their lies, and their manipulations. The gods assaulted the poor mortal—how dare he fall for the trap they set, how dare they hold him responsible for Hera’s attentions—and charged him with the crime of broken xenia.

The trial was swift. The execution a trip straight to Tartarus.

The only tears that fell for Ixion were the drops from Nephele’s own eyes. Growing fat with his child, she was shunned by the other goddesses and chose to spend her time alone in her rooms or roaming across the mortal lands. Specifically, she loved the mountains, valleys, and fields of Thessaly—Ixion’s lands—and spent many mornings resting in the quiet wilderness and her afternoons sitting atop the highest peaks. She loved watching the mortals, who so reminded her of Ixion, go about their daily lives seemingly so joyful.

Nine months came and passed. Nephele felt the approaching birth of her child with trepidation. She had no idea how Hera felt about this birith and feared the worse. Would Hera punish her for Ixion’s fault? Would she make Nephele suffer for him? When, at last, the moment came for her to push, Nephele was pleased to see Hera’s nymphs in attendance. Nothing more than the usual pain accompanied the delivery. Her child was born easily.

Half-male child, half-horse, her son was the perfect representation of his own beastly begetting. Nephele cuddled him close, allowing him feed upon her breasts. His tiny hooves kicked and shoved against her ever-chaning shape while his hands eagerly kneaded the soft pillows of her bosom. It was Zeus’s doing or Hera’s. She wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. He was hers and she would make sure he was left alone to live his immortal life beyond the control and influence of the rest of the Olympians. She would keep him safe on Ixion’s lands. Those lands, were, after all, his inheritance.

Little Centaurus drank until full, then fell asleep, tcuked into his mother’s cloud. Nephele cooed and hummed. A beast he may be, but he was beautiful to her.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Different Views on NaNoWriMo

Found these a week ago or so. Liked them and here I am sharing them with the world.

Attention, #NaNoWriMo Fans: No One Cares How Your F***ing Novel Is Going

I agree. Which, is one reason I still haven't gone ahead and joined Twitter. I begrudgingly joined Facebook a few years ago, personally, and now, more recently, under my pen name and blog/book series. Though I like meeting new writers, old writers, pros and amateurs and enjoy reading their works, I do not like talking about writing. I find it boring. About as boring as watching someone write. Or, paint dry. Or, water boil. Yup. That kind of boring. Even on author/writing forums, I am more interested in helping folks out with research questions, looking at pretty (and ugly) book covers, and playing cool "word/writing" games than actually reading about someone writing. Ugh.

Just write the damn thing, for gods' sake edit it, then format the sucker. Publish it and I'll read it, maybe.  But, please, don't tell me every little thought which went through your head while you wrote it. Especially, not every little plot and character problem. If you can't figure out how to write the mole from the hole, then don't write the mole into the hole in the first place. Problem solved.

p.s. And, by all means, if another sniveling idiot asks me if I'll read this novel before there is even a novel there to read, I might start smacking people. Hard. With the flat of my palm upon their sweet, pale cheeks.


Better yet, DON'T write that novel

Oh, I loved this article. A deep and sincere love. Yes, I am trying to write. Yes, there are days where I do indeed lock myself up in a room and crank out the needed words for whatever project it is I am currently slogging through...

Right now, I've heard back from Forbidden Fruit on my submission to one of their anthology collections and oh, boy, but do I have a bunch of revising to do as well this November!

But, that has never stopped me from reading. I read constantly. Everywhere. My favorite place? On the toilet while hiding from my husband and dog. I get tons of pages devoured in a single night like that. Which, frequently carries over to the bed and my Kindle. At any given time, I have at least four books in process. I love reading.

More than writing. Hope I never lose that balance.

Friday, October 31, 2014

NaNoWriMo 2014

I have decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month 2014 - which, incidentally begins tomorrow and goes all the way through November. Basically, the goal is to write at least 50,000 words toward a novel during the month. If I can accomplish that, I win! Easy, peesy... uh, yeah.

Here's my plan:


A re-imagining of the myth of the Centaurs and Lapiths. 
Standing before the gathered herd of Centaurs, Hylonome felt her heart seize and stutter at the sight of her groom, her stallion, her mate standing beneath the old tree at the center of the meadow. Beside him stood her father, hind hoof stamping the sun-backed ground in impatience. Her mother stood off to the side, tail swishing, with a smile pasted on her face. The corners of her mouth already trembled and the first tear leaked down her tanned and wrinkled cheek. Hylonome offered her a weak, soft smile. Then, turning her eyes back to Cyllarus, she locked onto his heated gaze and began to trot toward her future. 
Hippodamia cringed at the shout of the king. Bowing low, she scurried down the dark hall back toward the palace's central garden. It wouldn't do to be found eavesdropping on the stranger visitor speaking so candidly with her father. He didn't need to know she had been hiding behind the heavy woolen curtain behind his throne. Some things, a princess never did. Passing into the bright sunlight, she squinted down at her gown. Brushing a few of the cobwebs from the sleeves and hem, she lifted her head, took a deep breath, and slowly walked back to the court. It was time to meet her betrothed. 
When Hippodamia casually suggests inviting her half-siblings, the beastly Centaurs, she does so with the best of intentions. But sometimes the best intentions are not enough. 
(Note: In the original myth, it is Pirithous, Hippodamia's husband, who is the Lapith. However, I have made a rather big change to the original and instead made Hippodamia the Lapith. I think it works better this way since Hippodamia's name means "horse tamer.")

With that said, I have also made a few early on plans as to format and content. I figured I should probably do a little pre-planning before the actual writing begins to make this as seamless as possible and as do-able as possible.

Prologue: Story of Ixion on Olympus and the resulting one-night stand with the cloud giving birth to the Centaur race.
Odd numbered chapters: Hylonome's side of the story leading from her wedding to Cyllarus to their attendance at Hippodamia's ceremony/feast.
Even numbered chapters: Hippodamia's side of the story leading from her first introduction to Pirithous to the day of her nuptials and the feasting afterwards.
Climax: The battle between the Centaurs and Lapiths.
Epilogue: Hippodamia's bridal night with Pirithous and Hylonome and Cyllarus' reunion in the Underworld.
Total word count goal for finishing the novel: 80,000 words

This will be my very first novel-writing attempt. Please, wish me luck. Oh, and if you, too, are going to be part of the event, feel free to drop me a line and "Buddy" me. I'd love to hear about your works and your tips to success!

Friday, October 24, 2014

Twitter Finds! Surf, and ye shall find.

Don't get too excited now, I'm not on Twitter (seriously considering it, though)... but, I was surfing it the other day and stumbled upon a few interesting finds. Thought I'd share them with you all.


Daphne Ignatius' My Life as Athena: The Private Memoirs of a Greek Goddess

Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Warcraft. Brilliant, strong and pure... Or so they say.

Born the daughter of Zeus, Athena springs out of her father’s head, clad as a warrior and brandishing her weapons with skill. Smart, gutsy and rebellious, she is a misfit in an age that demands that females be gentle and submissive. Undaunted, Athena fights to prove herself and assert her independence, but her autonomy comes at an unexpected price.

When she wins patronage of the city of Athens in a battle of wits, Athena comes into her own and matures into the brilliant goddess that we know from legend. However, Greek mythology itself has been deliberately sanitized. It hides a darker story in which Athena must make difficult choices and outwit the other gods to protect herself and those she loves.

The golden age of ancient Greece is eventually threatened by a new military power growing in the west. When the Roman legions arrive, greedy for Greece’s wealth and offering to adopt the Greek gods as their own, Athena and her fellow gods have a diabolical choice to make: Do they stand by the Greek people, or betray them to safeguard their own interests?

In defiance of her father’s wishes, Athena rebels one last time and sets forth to change the course of human history itself.

Author Daphne Ignatius takes us inside the mythology and reveals a personal side of Athena that can’t be found in textbooks. For the first time, we delve into her world and see civilization unfold through divine eyes.

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"Creating a story about Athena is no small feat and the author created an unforgettable read." - Diana L, Amazon Top 500 Reviewer

"The characters and the world she (the author) has created are great. Readers who love mythology will love this one." - A Creative Mind

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Who is Athena?
Athena is the favorite daughter of Zeus, king of the Greek gods. She is the goddess of wisdom, war, strategy, courage, creative inspiration, civilization, law and justice, mathematics, strength, strategy, the arts, crafts, and skill. On the side, she also served as champion to many of the legendary heroes of ancient Greece. As you see, she had a finger in practically everything! Minerva is the Roman goddess identified with Athena and in this book, they are one and the same.

Why is Athena important?
In ancient Greece there were few divine beings more important, and more generous, to humanity than the virgin goddess Athena. She was the protector of the city of Athens, once considered the center of civilization, learning and philosophy. The name Athens is derived from her name, confirming how much she was respected. Ancient Greek coins featured her profile on one side and her symbols (the owl and an olive branch) on the other, so it is clear that the Greeks celebrated their relationship with her.
The Parthenon, now a major tourist attraction in Athens, was originally a temple dedicated to Athena. A large ivory and gold statue of her (lost in ancient times) was housed within the Parthenon and was dressed in fine garments woven by the women of Athens. Once a year, there would be a major festival in which the statue would be dressed in new finery. In My Life as Athena, this statue was the cause of much consternation on Athena’s part!


Luciana Cavallaro's Accursed Women

Five stories, five women, five legends.

Phaedra, a Minoan princess, marries out of duty and to safeguard her precious home. She falls in love with Hippolytos, her husband’s son and asks the Goddess Aphrodite for help. He spurns her affections.

The Trojan War, one of history’s greatest stories ever told. What if the legend as told is wrong? History is told by the victors, and facts changed to twist the truth. Is it possible Helen of Sparta never went to Troy?

Hera, Queen of the Gods, is the most powerful goddess on Mount Olympos. For the first time ever in a candid interview, Hera shares what it’s like to be a goddess and wife to Zeus, the King of the Gods.

Created by the gods as a gift to humanity, Pandora is the first woman on Earth. Did she know what Zeus intended when he presented an urn as a wedding dowry to her husband? Neither she nor Epimetheus knew what it contained, but they were told never to open it.

All Medousa wanted was a life of love and acceptance but one fateful night it changed. While she’s alone in the Temple of Athene tending to the sacred fire, Poseidon pays a visit. No human can stop an immortal from taking what they want.



When the greatest warriors of Greece have fallen, only the cunning and determination of one man can bring victory.

Achilles and Ajax are dead and the hope of the Greeks has died with them, leaving the army restless for their homes and threatening rebellion. Then a series of oracles appears, utterances from the gods that must be fulfilled if Troy is to be defeated and the war brought to an end. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, knows that only one man has the courage and intelligence to complete the tasks set by the Olympians: Odysseus, king of Ithaca.

From an island haunted by a vengeful madman to a forsaken tomb and its deadly guardian, from the palace of a hostile king to the sacred heart of Troy itself, Odysseus and his friend Eperitus must follow the trail toward the greatest deception of all time. The Trojan horse.


All are very well recommended and I am very interested in getting my hands on these works. Can't wait! Glad I took the time to #mythology.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Abandoned by my Cover Artist - What now?

So, my cover artist with whom I had a very nice working relationship AND whose covers I absolutely love, seems to be on sabbatical with no forwarding address and contact... which, is leaving me in quite a bind. What to do?

Do I keep the covers she has made, but change things for the rest. Do I just wait and pray for her return? Do I just go with pre-mades as I need them and they come close to working?

Some internet research led me to a basic, simple, easy-to-use Kindle cover creator called KD Renegade. After a few difficulties which in turn directed me toward a cool little FREE app called jpegmini, I looked into creating my own "professional" ebook covers. Not sure if I really like what I've created, especially with my limited talents in graphic design, but here's a look.

I would love some honest feedback.

The important facts:

  • I used all public domain artwork and paintings.
  • I tried to keep the font clear and simple, but still evocative of my tone and genre: Mythology and Erotic Romance.
  • I wanted the covers to look enough the same to illustrate their similar styles.
  • I hope my covers don't attract the Amazon censors.
  • I need the covers to look good big and small.

Here they are in no particular order:


If I decide to change my covers, I do think I might combine the stories of Callisto
and Hyacinth, adding an additional part to the Hyacinth story about his time with Zephyrus.


Daughters of Ixion is my WIP for NaNoWriMo.


I think "A Night Alone" may be my favorite cover so far!


I'm liking the "Gods at Night" title more than my previous title.


What do you all think of the title "A Pome Beneath" for my novelette on Hades and Persephone?
Here is another option for title:


I just can't decide... perhaps I should finish writing it first and see what comes out?

Friday, October 10, 2014

Steven Pinker: These Are the Grammar Rules You Don't Need to Follow

Link to complete article here.

Even though Pinker has long been a fan of Strunk & White's and other style guides, he realized that they are often larded with proscriptions that exist simply because they have been passed down from earlier, different eras, rather than because they are based on any sound grammatical logic or understanding of linguistics (Strunk & White, he notes early on, “misdefined terms such as phrase, participle, and relative clause”). For example, Pinker argues, in many cases it’s perfectly finein fact, desirableto dangle participles, split infinitives, describe things in the passive voice, and engage in various other practices frequently frowned upon by our most authoritative style sources.

As a classically-trained translator of Latin, I have to disagree with this. Latin teaches and encourages proper English grammar better than most other languages. If you can read, understand, and compose Latin, you have a pretty damn good understanding of the "proper" rules of English composition.

Tradition is as important as modern usage when it comes to grammar. Just because I hear people all the time say, "Hey, ax d'man yer quest," doesn't mean any of that is correct. Readability and understandability are key, I agree. But, getting rid of certain rules leaves it open to discussion about the others. And, the day subject and verb agreement become inconsequential, I am giving up on the world...

However, with that said, I do think that dangling both participles and prepositions useful at certain times, as well as splitting infinitives and using the passive voice (which, honestly, I can't figure out the rule against in the first place... a voice is a voice and all have their use).

And his advice about how to avoid such writing is couched in cognitive-science theories that help him advise readers not just on how to write better, but on why certain decisions lead to smoother, easier-to-parse prose.

But, then he goes on to state that about "easier-to-parse prose." Wrong! The proper, traditional use of English makes the language far more able to be parsed than current language use. I know, I've done a ton of it and modern speech and writing is nearly impossible to cohesively parse without quite a bit of trouble.

Anyways, those are my thoughts, but whether you agree or not, please take the time to read the article. It is very interesting and worth at least one read through. p.s. I read it three times and look forward to a fourth perusal.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Free Kindle eBooks on Amazon - October 1, 2014

Always check price before purchase as cost may have changed.

Initiation (Tell Me When Book 1)

Bryn Talbot knows who she is: a time-traveling art thief with a list of lovers seven millennia deep. Seduction is part of her job, something she enjoys in the moment – whenever and wherever that may be – and then leaves behind. Until she gets a hot new colleague.

Bryn knows him only as Doc, the man who must keep her fit to travel, and give her the orgasms that launch her into the past. But this Doc is nothing like his predecessor. He’s younger. He’s as scarred as she is. And when Bryn pushes his buttons, this Doc finds hers and pushes back...with skill.

When Doc’s initial effort lands Bryn practically in the lap of the Roman-era blacksmith she seeks, she suspects her once-routine job is about to be reforged with white-hot intensity.

An erotic novelette (approx. 11,000 words) featuring hot M/F action. The skeptical ex-boxer and kinky blacksmith are just bonuses.

TELL ME WHEN Series

Time travel. Art thievery. A lover (or two or five) in every port. All Bryn Talbot needs to cross history is an orgasm. As her erotic adventures take her from the Roman frontier to the Spanish Inquisition, from the destruction of Pompeii to the Black Plague, Bryn’s one constant will be Doc, a new colleague who challenges her as much as he turns her on. Will theirs be a professional partnership for the ages, or something far riskier than Bryn’s ever experienced?


Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.


Whispers in the Dark: Destruction & Deliverance - Sloth

Sitting in the shadows of the underworld they waited until the devil created all seven. After the last was created they came to walk the earth. These demons would take the form of men and lived in secret from human existence. Each demon represented their own deadly sin and had special powers that only they can wield. These demons were created to end human choice and enslave the whole world creating a realm much like that of Tartaros and Hell. However, like all things created, these demons had a weakness. After the news of these seven powerful demons reach the heavens, seven seraphim are created and based on the seven different heavenly virtues. Soon they are also sent to earth to battle. These seven angels of the highest hierarchy are given powers comparable to the ones bestowed upon the demons. The cruel twists comes into play when they are told that they are not only nemesis but mates as well. Can the mating call bring them together or will their loyalty to their side pull them apart. This story begins with the sin of sloth and the virtue of vigilance. 

Duff is the sixth demon. His Scottish accent can be heard from the shadows where he holds his power. He represents the sin of sloth. Whispers are echoed around him with hair made of shadows. His realm is found in the valleys of the highlands. Below the mountain his realm is always full of shadows and stays dark. Among the gates of his realm are his guardians in the form of reapers. Inside the gates in the high tower is home to another creature that the humans think of as myth. Every once in a while she travels to earth to bring violence and mayhem but most of the time Medusa can be found here training her gorgon. Down in the deepest part of the tower her body slides along the stone.

Whispers aren’t the only things that resound from this realm with its noisy inhabitants. The ghosts and wraith among the realm bring their moans into the night as well. Nothing however, can replace the sounds of the banshee as they scream throughout the highlands. Trapped into darkness his realm is the closest realm to Tartaros that the devil ever created. 

Evgren controls the power of the sun and is the seraphim of diligence. She battles the shadows of sloth with her rays of sunshine that leap from her bright yellow mane of hair. She resides on the mysterious island of Brasil, just west of Ireland. Her lush island is covered in greenery with large oak trees and weeping willows where the wood nymphs play. Her muse play along the forest and frequently travel to earth to inspire the humans with things of good fortune. Rainbows can be seen inside the realm as leprechauns leap from one to the other carrying their buckets of gold.

Laughter booms throughout the island as well as the lilting sounds of Irish songs and stories. Her island of peace is protected well with the magic of the druids. Her gates are guarded by the mighty treant people so none may enter unless given permission first.


Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.


Daughter of the Sea
Engaged against her will, Calista, a young Roman aristocrat, grapples with the annihilation of her world at the hands of her would-be husband. The violent aftermath uncovers a connection to the mythological land of Atlantis, shattering Calista’s conception of family, the gods—and herself.

Calista does not know why the sea sings in her veins—or why her parents have affianced her to the insidious Lord Avaritus. She watches, powerless, as he ruthlessly annihilates all she loves.

When Calista tries escape with the remnants of her family, a storm strikes their vessel and Calista is hurled overboard. She reemerges in Atlantis, summoned by the leaders of the undersea domain. The very fiber of her identity shudders after she learns that she is the daughter of Neptune—and not quite mortal.

Despite the manipulation of Atlantis’s leaders and the romantic temptations of a pair of smirking grey eyes, Calista must find a way to return to Portus Tarrus to rescue her family and seek revenge against the man who destroyed everything she held dear.

Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.


Zeus (The God Chronicles Boook 1)

Vegas is not where Karly had imagined herself to be at this point in her life.She was supposed to be living in California, soaking up the sun and enjoying the life of an artist. Instead, she's just moving out of her parent's house and going to a school that could loosely be called her second choice. When she meets Zeus Drakos, owner of the new hit casino and resort in town, he seems just like every other jerk guy out there. How was she supposed to know who he really was?

Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.


I must apologize. I cannot get the book covers to load correctly tonight.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Erotic Artwork from the Masters

I can't believe I hadn't stumbled upon this blog before - it is an amazing collection of mythology artwork, much of it erotic in nature. I spent a good hour scrolling through the site. Please, enjoy the visual masterpieces.

(from Nec Spe, Nec Metu)




Friday, September 26, 2014

Review for The Maenad of Manhattan

This is a review for The Maenad of Manhattan by Liz Melon. It is available on Amazon for $1.99. This is the first book in a series and I can't wait until the rest are available.

Ms. Melon has done the impossible... or, at least, the very difficult. She has woven the mythos of the ancients (Greek, Norse, Slavic) into the modern world without following the normal course of rebirth or teenaged offspring and she added in the, ever so delectable, eroticism which is very popular these days. Well done!

Not only does she accomplish this nearly improbable task, she also managed to work in the very popular paranormal aspect; in this case, a vampiric maenad of Bacchus. I've always been a fan of the maenads, specifically the story of Pentheus and Dionysus. They are a crazy, freaky, really kind of fun group of ancient women who know the meaning of a wild night. If I were an ancient Greek, I would have definitely been one of these groupies. So nice, then, to see them in a modern work.

I love this story! Her mythology is accurate - incredibly so - and wonderfully woven into the story. No examples of "info dumping" here. Just a quick story about two lovers and their adventures hunting the monsters of old for pay and worship. I love her sex scenes - though, she definitely likes, perhaps a bit too much, the word "ramming" - and find them hot, twisted, and full of variety. Since this is Aphrodite's story, really, I'm beyond pleased that Ms. Melon spent so much time and effort with the sex.

Oh, and Loki. Poor boy, he usually doesn't get this much play these days and this story is a welcome relief from all the recent Loki's of literature and film. Thank you for that! Loki is a doll of mythos and well-deserving of some rewriting and modernizing into a "good" guy.

Overall delightful, creative, and well written, I am very glad I took a chance on this new author and gave her novella a read. It was well worth it!

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Book Covers - Huh?

This is a collection of book covers which have had me go huh? And, not necessarily in a good way. Sometimes in a really bad way... check them out for yourselves!

1. Headless Bodies

Uh? I think something's missing. Like his head. Where is his head? I am seriously concerned for his well-being and not even remotely feeling hot with those abs displayed so predominantly. I mean, what good is a great body if there is no head! Did the wolf eat it?


2. Photoshop Wrongs

No matter how many you make, this still isn't right. Besides, anyone with a Chinese Crested probably isn't into too much handcuff play... they are planning for the World's Ugliest Dog contest. Also, I swear I've actually used that book/glasses combo clip art in a presentation one time. And, lastly, the title doesn't fit with the cover, at all. Unless of course, you are referring to that dog!


Here are some more. Shake in fear, then laugh!


And, before you ask, I too think that woman looks way too much like she's popping out of that one guy's groin. Not to mention, how exactly is she sitting/leaning like that without toppling over?


3. Awkward Appendages

Please, tell me that that thing/arm/grabber on the left hand side of the cover isn't what I think it is. Is it a robot arm? Because that is disturbing. Not erotic, disturbing. Secondly, her bum. Yes, that bum. Does that look weird to you all? How did she get in that position.


And, here we have a weird-ass tail. No, seriously, look! That is bizarre, really bizarre! I only hope this book is about some kind of anthropomorphic alien race. Only then can this cover work at least kinda well.


So, this cover doesn't work. In any way. Where is his head if he's neck is there? If her legs are there, how is her hand down there? And, talking about her hand... where is the rest of her arm... that's a car seat there, somewhere in the corner. So, my biggest question, however, is who thought this looked good enough to go with and what did the other versions look like?


4. Floating Faces

I'd really like to believe that this is in fact a story about a heaven god who loses his corporeal presence and instead has to live the remainder of his immortal life as the heavenly sky. What an idea! But, it isn't and thus I am seriously confused. Since the title is "revenge" and I would have preferred something more like an attack or bloody knife. Additionally, if all this wasn't enough, I am not at all sure the floating face is even a man... those eyes may suggest a wide-eyed ingenue. And, what is with the gray bar along the side and bottom? Makes the cover look incomplete.


And, then there is this one. A large eye, a monstrous eye, just sitting there hanging above and obviously photoshop edited image of a whale's tail in the vast ocean. So much here just makes me cringe.

Monday, September 22, 2014

17th Century Vaginas


An interesting article full of "relevant" information.

What the 17th Century Can Teach Us About Vaginas

Good for a few laughs, some serious head-shaking, and Jeopardy-type knowledge. Enjoy!

Friday, September 19, 2014

Interesting Posts for Your Friday Blogroll

The top posts are courtesy of Mystical Sex... a good way to kill a few hours on a rainy day.

Hieros Gamos

Hieros Gamos is a Greek term meaning “sacred union”.



The Bacchanal was a religious rite associated with worship of the Roman God Bacchus, also known by the Greek name of Dionysus.


The term “phallic worship” or “phallicism” denotes religious veneration of the phallus, or erect penis.



Fascinus was an ancient Roman deity who, like Priapus, was associated with worship of the phallus or male sexual organ.



This infographic comes from the blog of Liz Meldon. In turn, she found the graphic on Pinterest. Although, I don't technically write "paranormal" per say... not vampires, werewolves, or fairies... I often find myself lumped into this genre because I write about gods. Anyway, I enjoyed this graphic history of the paranormal romance.